


Tangled Up In You

by ruru_u



Category: Bleach
Genre: Alternate Universe - Disney, Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Language, M/M, Non-Graphic Violence, Sexual Content, Tangled AU, ikkayumi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-27
Updated: 2015-03-29
Packaged: 2018-02-06 11:24:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1856317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ruru_u/pseuds/ruru_u
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Headstrong thief Ikkaku was ready to live out his days in peace and solitude, training for the battle of his dreams. He never expected to be swept up in fate's design to bring a long-lost prince home.</p><p>The best part of achieving your dreams is the chance to find a new one..... even if that means you're stuck babysitting a vain, naive narcissist with magic hair.</p><p>(Tangled AU)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Start of the Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome! I've had this idea for quite some time, and finally decided it would be worth writing. If you like Tangled and IkkaYumi, you've come to the right fic!
> 
> Fair warning: There will be quite a bit of deviation from the actual movie plot.

_This is the story of how I died. But don't worry, it's actually kind of a fun story! If you're a sick son of a bitch anyway._

_And the truth is: it's not even mine. This is the story of a man named Yumichika, and it starts with a flower..._

_So, once upon a time, a drop of sunlight fell from the heavens (don't you fucking dare question me) and landed right by the edge of a cliff. From it grew a magical purple flower that could heal the sick and injured. When the scientist Mayuri Kurotsuchi came across it in the wilderness, he harnessed its power to keep himself alive for centuries by singing a special song. (How he reached that conclusion I don't even want to know)._

_Not far from the flower's location ruled a warrior king and queen, whose subjects adored them, eagerly awaiting the birth of a new prince or princess – but when Queen Unohana went into labor, she became so sick that only a miracle could save her life._

_Rumors of the magical healing flower reached her husband, King Zaraki, who had always hated and distrusted magic. Now even he was willing to use the flower if it meant saving his wife and child. When the search team finally located it, they plucked it right from the ground and crushed it up into an unsalvageable paste._

_As you can imagine, this kinda pissed off that Kurotsuchi guy. He'd been saving the flower for centuries, trying to find a way to create a more convenient immortality serum from its power. Continuing his lifelong research would require something drastic._

_The flower healed Queen Unohana and allowed her to birth a lovely baby boy, named Yumichika, with hair the same color as its magical petals. The whole kingdom rejoiced, and all the while, Kurotsuchi hatched his plan to gather data from the royal newbie. About a month later, he paid a nighttime visit to the castle, if only to restore all the life he'd lost waiting._

_You know... none of this would have happened if the king and queen had been responsible enough to put the kid in their own room instead of separate, all alone, with no guards, and the window unlocked... but I digress._

_When Kurotsuchi sang his special song over the little tyke's bed, his hair began to glow with healing magic. However, the lock Kurotsuchi cut off for his own collection turned black and lost its abilities forever. So pretty much fuck that._

_His only chance at continuing researching – and living – was to take the child. So, when mom and dad awoke next morning to check on their brand new munchkin, Kurotsuchi had long since leapt out the window and taken him to a faraway secluded tower where even the royal guard would never look. _

_There, he raised Yumichika as his own, filling his head with the notion that going outside meant certain death, that people were dangerous and would only take advantage of him, while at the same time using his magical hair day in and day out to keep himself young and conduct experiments on immortality._

_Although he tried to keep his new flower hidden at all costs, Kurotsuchi couldn't stop him from dreaming of what lay beyond. Every year on his birthday, he would watch from the window as a huge tide of lanters floated above the tower, not knowing that this ritual signified Queen Unohana, King Zaraki, and their subjects' enduring hope, that one day, the lost prince would return home._

* * *

"Seven AM, the usual morning bull-shit," Yumichika grumbled to himself as he slid out of bed, eager for the night to come so he could sleep off life’s torturous boredom. Oh, if only Father Mayu would harvest some nightshade on his next trip... but that was surely too much to ask. After all, the scientist never cleaned up his own messes and he needed his son awake to pull him up from the ground below by his long, durable hair. Their tower was impregnable without that mode of entrance.

He hummed to himself as he swept, same as every day, making sure to eliminate each solitary speck of dust. Cleanliness meant little to him, but it was the only thing worth concentrating on sometimes.

At least today was a special occasion – his eighteenth birthday! He hoped Father Mayu would bring home something nice, but most likely the old man had forgotten as he did most years.

"I'm officially an adult today," Yumi mused aloud to his own reflection, passing by the large mirror on his way to retrieve more cleaning supplies. Letting the broom rest against a doorframe, he struck a sexy pose and pushed a lock of hair from behind his ear. "A very beautiful adult, no less." Smirking, he returned to his menial task with a renewed sense of energy. Father Mayu may have been eccentric, neglectful, and brimming with underhanded comments, but at least he'd taught his son the importance of youth and good looks. Yumichika was thankful, for he could spend hours admiring his own reflection and talking to himself (the only worthy companion in existence) while dull days passed.

Once the floors, walls, banisters, and practically every nook and cranny had been polished to perfection, Yumichika eagerly perched on the chest beside his bed to face a particularly overused mirror. He had much to talk about today. Selecting a soft brush from the overflowing box of hair accessories, he closed his eyes and began to run it through those long violet locks. "Eighteen," he said to himself. "Can you believe it? I'm all grown up – it seems like just yesterday my hair was only ten feet long." Sucking in a breath, he opened his stunning eyes and stared at himself to gather courage. "I have to ask him today. Father Mayu would surely agree that I'm old enough to go outside now, right?"

The silken strands contained no knots whatsoever. His hair was his pride, always shined and brushed and washed to perfection. Yumi didn't like the small black strands behind his left ear, which Father Mayu explained as a "childhood mishap," but they stayed hidden easily. Knowing that cutting the hair stripped it of its power, Yumichika protected it at all costs. He breathed in the sweet scent of shampoo as he tried to calm the hammering in his chest. Today, as his journey of manhood began, he would finally ask Father Mayu to let him leave.

Surely he'd allow one day! Well, one night, really – Yumichika didn't care, so long as he got to go where those floating lights came from. The beautiful azure and wisteria glows that drifted along like leaves on a glassy lake, joining the stars to add a touch of beauty to his monotonous existence... He sighed dreamily at the thought. Since before memory, those lights had  _called_  to him, drawing him in like nothing else.

"He has to say yes," Yumichika told himself after the brushing was done. "He just  _has_  to. It's my dream."

Skipping to the small box of paints in the corner, he chose the darkest blue available and some complementaries as well, then white and yellow to mix. Humming a random tune to himself, he dumped everything before the last wall space not already covered in designs and pictures: a pointed arch just above the spice shelf he'd uncovered earlier that day. It would do perfectly. Paint-scent dizzied him as he swept the brush back and forth, using both hands effortlessly to create what lay in mind.

Yumichika realized it all seemed a bit empty without the most important aspect. So, using the last bits of violet he'd mixed together, he made a wavy line down the slope and a crude faraway shape of his own figure, sitting and staring up at the beautiful sky. Every year on his birthday they appeared. No other time! It _had_ to mean something!

At that moment, a voice wafted in from the side window. Dread and excitement built up like always. Father Mayu was the only person Yumichika knew, and without him the place could get lonely... but that man's presence wasn't always a comfort.

"Yumichika! Let down your hair!"

"Coming!" Yumichika tossed a handful over the rafter and made a quick loop as always, then threw down the rest for his father to climb.

When Mayuri got inside he moved straight to the private lab. His son was left with a finger extended in the air, mouth hanging open, having just lost his chance to speak. Oh well... his dad had to come out of there sometime, and when he did, Yumichika would make him listen!

The lab door slammed open several moments later and out strode the tower patron in all his glory. Yumichika had grown used to Father Mayu's odd look overtime; in fact, he didn't think much of it at all. As far as he knew, there were only two humans in this world as beautiful as they, and the rest were beasts of gnarled fur and sharp fangs who would sooner tear out a young boy's throat than hear a plea for mercy.

Mayuri Kurotsuchi saw everything as a test subject, even himself; he claimed that years of experiments had reduced his own beastly appearance and that Yumichika was lucky enough to be born different from other men. It made the boy feel special to know he wasn't like the scary folk outside, but doubt always seemed to stir when his father told those tales of monsters and kidnappers. After all, he left the tower all the time and never came back with a single mark, and the books Yumichika taught himself to read always seemed to describe handsome princes rather than scary ones. Mayuri told him they were only fantasy.

"Father!" Yumichika greeted, clasping his hands in anticipation and following quick strides. "How was your trip today? You didn't run into any trouble, did you? I missed you, you know. Find anything interesting out there? It's been the same around here, nothing to report-"

Mayuri cut him off. "Well then why are you talking?" After a beat, he cackled and slammed a hand onto Yumi's shoulder. "Just kidding, little flower! But listen, daddy's very tired, so why don't sing him a song?"

He looked exhausted, it was true. Mayuri always seemed several years older after going more then a couple of days without brushing his son’s magic hair.

"Oh, right!" Yumichika darted off to find the chair where he'd sit every few days to help Father Mayu gather strength.

As Mayuri took his seat behind him and began to run the brush down through purple strands, Yumichika sang, more quickly than usual, the words his father taught him long ago. When he finished, Mayuri felt much more rested, healthy, and young than he had just seconds prior. He smiled to himself until Yumichika turned around to start talking again. It was hard to feign interest in the little lout's babbling sometimes.

"So… today's kind of a special day, isn't it?" Yumichika bit his lip and waited for a response.

Father Mayu's eyebrow rose. "No more special than any other," he replied.

Yumichika's head tilted to the side as he wrung his hands together nervously. He had forgotten again, but that was okay! Once he remembered, he would surely be willing to give him what he wanted. "Well, it's kind of my birthday. My eighteenth birthday actually!"

Mayuri's lips curled up in a sneer. "Mmm, no. That's impossible. Why, you were just a little sprout yesterday. By the by, stop wringing your hands like that, you know how stupid it makes you look-  _I'm just kidding_ , flower, you're so cute!"

Yumichika forced a laugh. "Haha, I know, but… today  _is_  my birthday, and I'd really like to-"

"Of cooourse it is!" Mayuri interrupted. "And I know just what you want, too. Well, you'll be happy to know I found some fresh mushrooms at the market today. Tell you what – you leave daddy alone for a few hours so he can make your favorite dish." He poked Yumi's nose in conclusion of the conversation.

"I'm allergic to mushrooms." Mayuri didn't seem to hear. For a second, Yumichika considered dropping the subject altogether, his confidence having faltered significantly throughout the one-sided conversation. But then a surge of determination flowed in. It was now or never, and if he was a man, he'd better start acting like one. "Father, wait!"

The man froze, rolling his yellow eyes before turning to face Yumichika with a poorly fashioned smile. "Yes, what is it now?"

"Well, I've been thinking... since it's my birthday and all, and since I am technically an adult... maybe it's time you let me leave? J-just for one day! Only long enough for me to see the floating lights!" He gestured nervously to the drying paint depicting his dream.

Mayuri tried to maintain composure. "Why, Yumichika," he said through clenched teeth. "You could see the stars perfectly from right here!"

Yumichika held up his hands in defense. "Yeah, but these are different. Once a year, the lights go flying through the sky –  _only_  on my birthday! I can't help but think that they were meant for me…"

His patience was wearing thin now. "Well, you can see your floating lights from inside, can't you? And it's a mere coincidence that you were born the day they come. I just don't think it's time for you to leave; in fact, it never will be. Quite frankly I'm tired of hearing about this nonsense."

Crestfallen, Yumi began to twist his hair. "B-but, not even just for a few minutes? And, I know I can handle myself out there, especially if you go with me. Please, please, father, I don't ask for much, just let me-"

The taller man shook his head. His patience was wearing thinner by the second. "Even knowing what's out there, you insist on leaving our safe haven? Yumichika, there are men with fangs dripping in venom, men with no hearts, no brains, who'd turn to beasts when they saw a pretty thing like you. Someone so weak, feeble-minded, and awkward as yourself wouldn't last twelve seconds beyond the yard. You won't risk your life over a foolish whim."

"I'm strong," Yumichika asserted. "I do fifty push-ups a day, and…" rebellion stirred in his chest as he blurted, "If the people out there are so bad, why are you allowed to leave while I'm trapped? It’s not _fair!_ "

"ENOUGH!" Mayuri's voice boomed, making his son flinch and draw back in fear. "You will NEVER leave this tower, understand? EVER! And you will refrain from making such a moronic suggestion again!"

Silence rang through the room for a long moment before the scientist sank back with an exasperated sigh. "Great. I must look like a terrible person. Is it so wrong to protect one's own? Is it so  _wrong_  that I don't want you torn to shreds by men with monstrous pointy claws? I must know, Yumichika, why you insist on challenging me at every turn. After all I've done for you." His ghostly white hand splayed across his chest as if hurt by the very notion.

Yumichika swallowed his guilt. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I-I just feel so alone up here sometimes."

A clammy finger went under his chin, lifting his face to meet Mayuri's inhuman eyes. "You have me," he insisted gently. "And besides, I only keep you here for your own safety, Flower. No one must ever find you, or I simply could not live anymore. You're my everything." He bent his son's head and kissed the smooth violet hair.

Yumichika sighed. It was decided, then. He would never get his wish.

 _At least not so long as Father Mayu is around._ A spark of defiance ignited within. He should have known the old man wouldn't understand… but in all the books he read, princesses got married and left home, boys went to war, and common folk had adventures _long_ before the age of eighteen. It was time for him to join them. "I'm sorry, father. That was wrong. But – there is one thing I'd really like for my birthday."

"And what's that?" Mayuri withdrew his finger from the boy's chin.

"Some new books? The ones with poems and stories, with lots of words instead of pictures. I need something to do while you're away or I might go crazy." He smiled sheepishly.

Mayuri's lips formed a thin line as he thought over the request. "You have plenty of books."

"Books that I've read at least a hundred times each, father."

"I'd have to travel all the way to the coast for that. It's nearly a four day trip you know."

Yumichika shrugged in false resignation. "Alright, I just thought it was a more reasonable request than going outside."

Done with it all, Mayuri gave in at the mere thought of further insistence and begging. He ran a hand over his headdress and sighed. "Fine. Just promise me, after this, you will never ask to leave our tower again. Let me hear you say it."

"I promise I'll never ask to leave."

After Father Mayu disappeared into the woods for his journey, Yumichika gazed through the window and sighed. The sky still shone brightly. It would be a while before his lights appeared.

And he was determined to be outside when they did.

* * *

 

"Holy shit, look how high up we are! I can see the whole kingdom from here! Well, at least a fourth of it. Or maybe like a fifth… but still!  _Awesome!_ "

A metallic clanging brought Ikkaku's attention to the skylight, where his fellow thieves waved their arms in a frantic attempt to shush him. "Idiot!" Renji hissed, coiling the rope around his left arm. "Do you want to draw every guard in the castle? This is stealth mission, man!"

Ikkaku paid him no mind. "You're not even seein' this view. Maybe if you did stop the smell the roses now and then your ass wouldn't be tight enough to crush rocks."

"Hey, I ain't no tight-ass!" Renji quickly gasped and hunkered down, realizing how loud his voice had gotten.

"Pshh, you never let me have any fun. Maybe I _want_ to draw the guards up here, huh? I ain't had a good fight in forever. It eats at me, like real bad."

Ignoring their obnoxious bickering, Tetsuzaemon Iba wrenched the window open so they had no choice but to pipe down. His finger pointed through as Renji and Ikkaku craned their necks to see the most beautiful vision imaginable.

"There it is," Renji whispered.

Ikkaku slapped his head. "Now who's drawin' attention?"

Iba frantically placed his finger before his lips. Using only hand gestures, he instructed Ikkaku to lower himself down and grab the sword…  _quietly_. Ikkaku nodded, put on his serious face, and let the other two hook him up to a crude harness and rope.

The guards standing post didn't seem too interested in actually looking over their backs. Ikkaku eyed them as he lowered down, thankful for the blind spot in their positions. All day long they watched a big door, ready to protect this sword with their miserable lives if push came to shove.

While the queen was still pregnant, the city's top smiths had forged a blade fit only for royalty, to give to her child, regardless of gender. Only a warrior king like Zaraki would present a sword to an infant, but it had been an ideal gift and to this day the king kept it sharp and polished for its intended owner. Ikkaku thought it a great shame to waste such perfect steel on empty hope.

Now the weapon lay out free and ripe for filching, situated on a silky violet pillow lined in golden tufts. Its beauty overwhelmed him... _man_ , Ikkaku could just picture that glistening blade as it cut through a man's jugular, sliced an arm from its socket, or rang against another with smooth, continuous parries... the thought was almost enough to make him vocalize something more befitting a bedroom context.

But this heist called for absolute silence.

Carefully, slowly, Ikkaku brought his palms underneath its sheath and gave the signal to be lifted up.

Everything seemed to be going according to plan until the door creaked open ahead. His heart nearly short-circuited and a chorus of expletives floated down from above. Guards had a tendency to show up at exactly the wrong time in his experience. "Hey!" one of them shouted in Ikkaku's direction as blades sang free across the room.

The thief merely smiled, tucked his stolen goods under his arm, and gave a salute while rising to safety.

"WOOO, we did it!" Ikkaku laughed hysterically at the others' terrified expressions. They bounded off the roof and down a cobblestone street. "Come on, you guys, lighten up!"

"Can it and pick up the pace!" Renji barked, jumping out of his skin as an arrow whizzed past. Ikkaku continued to laugh joyously as they ran through the flurry of deadly weapons, cheering whenever he dodged a particularly close shot. Renji and Iba simply shook their heads and kept running, slamming their feet against the ground with every ounce of strength to clear the bridge before some do-gooder thought to draw it shut.

When all seemed clear, the three of them stopped deep in the trees to catch their breath and assess the day's wares. A few tiaras and other jeweled accessories filched from the morning market shined in their satchel, along with ropes, hooks, and other tools of the trade, but all Ikkaku saw was that magnificent sword. "I'll carry it," he blurted, tightening his grip around the strap.

Renji snorted. "Um, no. Here, let me, you've done enough as it is."

"What?" Ikkaku scowled at him. "It wasn't my fault those guys showed up! Come on, I'm the strongest, so I should carry the sword."

"Pfff! Bull shit! Here, we'll just take turns. I'll go first." Renji tried to yank it toward himself.

"Leggo of the bag, ass boat!"

"Stop bein' such a d-!" Before he could finish what would surely have been a brilliant statement, a horse broke through the layers of brush to their left.

All three froze and turned to behold a terrifying and glorious sight, nearly crumpling under the pressure he exerted alone. King Zaraki was wearing a crown of gold, small chains hanging down that jingled to announce his royal badassery, wide smile stretching the scar on his face as he eyed the three miscreants, eager to shred them limb from limb.

On foot he stood nearly seven feet tall. His hands were big enough to crush their heads. A jagged sword longer than the average human arm hung from his belt, flecked in blood no one cared to wash away. His oddly-colored horse whinnied, stomped, and bared its teeth in agitation. His eyes were a hundred times more animalistic than hers, boring through steel and flesh and seeing nothing but the opportunity for violence. His kind was the warrior, bred down countless generationsn of heroic and merciless names. The silence accompanying his presence was palpable.

"HOLY FUCK, RUN!" Iba recovered from shock first, grabbing a handful of Renji's shirt as he turned to flee.

Ikkaku watched King Zaraki's soulless eyes follow them while the man himself stayed perfectly still. It was as if he'd sensed the bald one wouldn't go. His smile grew all the wider as his gaze fell back to Ikkaku, growling low and deep. "Ain't ya gonna run away?"

A bead of sweat trailed down the back of Ikkaku's neck. He gulped dryly.  _The warrior king… it's really him! I've always wanted to see him up close, but now… Holy crap, this guy's even bigger than I imagined!_

Ever since his younger days, Ikkaku had wished to be a knight in the king's guard. But street-prowling orphans could only dream of such things. Standing face to face with Zaraki, he wasn't sure how to feel anymore – other than petrified and overpowered. Should he fight him? That was all it took to enter the guard, but such a risk was probably not worthwhile anymore. He'd stolen something quite valuable. The king was reputed to dismiss actual laws when it came to fighting, but this may have been the exception. His aura felt murderous.

Zaraki's eyes fell upon the satchel. Ikkaku glanced down as well, bringing it up closer as if he'd never seen it before.

"Come on now," the king rumbled, holding out a scarred and powerful hand. "Give me my son's sword."

That was his cue. Ikkaku realized he had three choices: run away like some weakling (but live long enough to grow strong), stay and be slaughtered by the king for pride's sake, or hand the sword over and rot in jail. None sounded appealing but only one involved more time with this incredible weapon.

Zaraki was growing impatient. Ikkaku made to hand him the satchel, but swung it across his horse's eyes last second. The beast cried out in dismay and reared back, giving him just enough distraction time to run blindly into a nearby thicket.

Hoofbeats thundered behind him as the vegetation gave way to open land, and Ikkaku sprinted toward an outcropping of rock overgrown with lush green vines. The guards' voices seemed to come from every direction.  _Shit, shit, shit_ , he thought to himself, sidling along the flat surface. With the next round of shouting so close by, he considered whipping his new sword out to fight. Go down like a real man.

But the rock gave way before anything so idiotic could happen.

Confused, Ikkaku jerked his feet under the hanging wall of vine. Hooves and feet rushed past unaware. Somehow he'd ended up in a small cave, manmade by the looks of it, as if someone had drilled through the rocks and underground.  _Yes! Man, I'm so lucky!_ Ikkaku enthused, raising a fist to whatever higher power had just granted him this stroke of fortune. Too bad there was not enough room inside to do his lucky dance.

Going back out there meant certain death, so both man and satchel had to squeeze through a dark and narrow tunnel that stretched nearly ten yards. Ikkaku was filthy and exhausted by the time he reached daylight. He had to toss the satchel to get free, but, after crawling through the exit himself, it was nowhere to be seen.

"...Oh no," the terrified thief nearly shat bricks when he realized his mistake. Outside the tunnel was an embankment leading nowhere but down. A few frantic moments of searching finally brought relief when he saw the bag lying tiny and alone beneath the stone wall, studded with greenery and what seemed to be… grips?

It would be a long drop and a quick death if he slipped up, and the grips were already overgrown with moss and rot. Ikkaku swallowed and took a deep breath to steady himself.  _It's this or givin' up_ , he told himself,  _and I ain't leavin' that sword behind for shit_. He spat on his palms and rubbed them together before turning to make a tentative step.

"Huh," he said to himself as he reached the halfway point. "This ain't so h-HOLY MOTHER OF SHITTING FU-" 

Well, that was one way to finish a downward climb. One moment he'd been upright, and the next, he stared up at a blue sky with sharp pain radiating through his back and ass. Having the breath knocked out of him was better than dying, but as soon as strength returned he rolled over and tossed the faulty grip as far as it could go. As he glared at the sailing chunk of wood, something even _more_ breathtaking than the prior experience caught his eye.

Just down a grassy hill, past some trees and bushes on a smooth field of green, stood a massive stone pillar supporting a quaint abandoned house. He knew it was abandoned because vines seemed to inhabit every crevice, including the upper window, crawling all the way down its insanely tall base. Whoever had created that elaborate passage must have lived here ages ago and long since passed away.

 _Jackpot_.

Ikkaku swiped the satchel from its resting place, took a quick glance inside, and limped his way toward the imposing structure. Already he pictured what sort of antique riches might be up there. Even if the house was empty it could provide shelter while he waited for the guards to lose his trail. 

First things first, though; he had to find a way inside...

Breeze made the vines rustle against their stony host as he circled and circled to find entrance. There were no doors, and no grips either. One tug at the vines told him they weren't strong enough to hold weight. The wall scratched his palms painfully as he pushed in random places all around, trying to discover some hidden passageway – how could someone have ever lived up there?

When he craned his neck beneath the overgrown balcony, splashes of color caught his eye. Squinting, Ikkaku could make out what appeared to be painted designs of vine and flower joining the natural stuff along its rails. He laughed breathily to himself. _Man_ , if only he could get up there, he could enjoy a view ten times better than the one from this morning, and live in solitude to train. Goals that once seemed impossible were already creeping back in without those killjoys around. He cared for Renji and Iba, sure, but they'd be better off without him and he'd been wanting to branch off for quite some time now. No one would need him, no one would ask him for anything, no one would stop him from his dream.

His fingers danced across the stolen sword. They wouldn't miss something like this. In fact, he knew they'd planned to sell it, and this was the perfect opportunity to not only stop that travesty, but claim the blade for himself. A weapon so fine deserved a wielder to match.

Still gaping at the balcony rail, Ikkaku stepped back and pulled lengths of rope from his satchel, along with three hooks to fasten together. He'd be up there in no time and leave all annoying problems behind.

It was a rough climb, but he made it, and as he stood to assess the place it was cluttered with all kinds of cool junk! Fabric, clothes, gadgets, tools, eclectic decorations, paintbrushes… paint… bread?… a bowl of fresh water…

His smile faltered into a confused gape.  _Wait a second_ …

Ikkaku's narrow eyes found a long trail of purple silk draped over the banisters, and realized what it really was just in time for a blunt object to come flying at his forehead with great force. Everything went black.

* * *

Yumichika stood with one arm outstretched, having just whipped a book at the intruder with surprising accuracy, who now lay facedown on the floor, contents of his satchel spilled out in all directions.

Still recovering from shock, Yumichika took a few tentative steps forward and used his foot to pull the bag toward himself. He made sure to avoid that unmoving figure close-by, grimacing at its shiny bald head. When he’d heard the loud thumping sounds outside, Yumichika had been forced to forget his efforts at gathering the courage to leave and act quickly; he didn't know what to do next.

Jewels glittered amongst the rope and rusty hooks. Yumi crouched down and began to sort through them out of curiosity, captivated by the fancy trinkets, all else forgotten for the time being. He'd never seen anything so fine and beautiful, other than his own reflection of course.

After fitting himself with a few bracelets and then tossing them aside for being to gaudy, he picked up a sword and turned it side to side. Its scabbard slid off easily in his hand, revealing an impeccable blade within. He gasped softly, twisting it this way and that until his eyes stared back from its reflective surface. Nothing else in the bag was quite so enchanting.

Yumichika stepped in front of his full-length mirror and held the sword aloft, tossing its sheath aside and trying out a few poses. He thought of the valiant warriors and princes who rescued fair maidens from harm with their noble weapons. Most books had pictures; he tried to imitate them, gripping the hilt with both hands and spreading his feet apart. A smile broke across his face like the sun. He looked  _good_  holding that sword, and felt good too!

But this sword belonged to an outsider, who might use it to gut him if he wasn't careful. Father Mayu's lab would be the perfect place to hide it for now since there were so many odd compartments and nooks in there. He crept in, feeling rebellious just for entering (which he did quite often anyway), and placed the naked blade under a latched strip of wood. He was arranging some lab tools on top when a moan came from outside.

Yumichika gasped and rushed across the room, picking up the sheath on his way and holding it out in defense. His trespasser remained stock still.

The baldy weighed a ton, but Yumichika managed to lift him into a chair and wrap him in the ropes he’d brought. With a tight knot at the back, it was done. Now all that remained was what to do with him.

After staring for several seconds, Yumichika's fear began to subside into curiosity. He realized the outsider was nowhere near as beastly as he should have been, based on Father Mayu's descriptions. Tilting his head downward, he moved just close enough to poke the man with the sheath, lifting his chin to assess his unconscious face. He had to admit it wasn't totally hideous either. A bald head really suited him, as did the red markings on each eyelid. Yumichika used the sheath to lift his upper lip, and drew back in surprise when he saw straight white teeth and soft pink gums instead of gnarled, bloody fangs.

"Who are you?" he whispered, but the man was out cold. It would be unwise to let his guard down anyway, as Father Mayu had once warned him that some monsters pretended to be innocent and only showed their true colors when they spied a worthy conquest.

Unwilling to wait a moment longer, Yumichika moved behind his captive and shook the chair until he began to react. "Guh… what? Huh, w-where am I?" came the gruff voice.

Through blurry vision, Ikkaku watched a figure move into view. With a few tight blinks it came into focus: a person, gender indecipherable (but probably female), stood with arms hanging limply and a blank expression. Ikkaku tried to figure out what exactly he was looking at. Whoever this person was, their image certainly fit the strange and nonsensical location, draped in an off-white robe with forest green leaves and dark red flowers embroidered throughout. His hopes of solitude and peace had been dashed, but at least what waited up here wasn't boring. The person's head connected to a seemingly endless length of violet hair the same color as their piercing eyes.

"Um," Ikkaku began, struggling slightly against his restraints. "This kind of thing ain’t really my cup of tea. Sorry to disappoint you, honey."

Yumichika's brows nearly connected. "'Honey'?" He made a face. "Do you really think I'm stupid enough to fall for that? I won't give in to sweet talk."

Ikkaku's mouth hung open dumbly. "Are you a dude or a chick?" was the first question that came to mind after hearing the person's voice.

"What?"

"Male or female," Ikkaku clarified impatiently.

Yumichika crossed his arms. "I'm a boy - a _man_ , I mean - but what does it matter? I suppose you want me to think you're some normal everyday human, but as I said before, I'm not stupid." He gripped the sheath in both hands and began to pace, holding his makeshift weapon out defensively. "What are you really? A goblin? A warlock? A werewolf, or maybe a snake in human disguise?"

"The fuck are you talking about?" Ikkaku blurted. He struggled against the ropes again, scooting sideways. "Just let me out of this chair and I…" It was then that he noticed the sheath in his captor's hand, and panic set in. "Hey, where's my sword?"

A smirk pulled at Yumichika's lips. "Oh, you mean the weapon with which you meant to slay me? I hid it."

"WHAT? Give it back!" Ikkaku jerked his arms upwards but the rope was far too tight. He watched as the other backed away in fear, hand fumbling for a better weapon amongst the kitchen tools, and it became agonizingly clear what was going on. This guy was obviously a total nut job, blabbering about monsters and humanoid snakes, suspicious of him and probably scared enough to take his life if it came to that.  _Fuck_ , he thought to himself.  _I shoulda' just fought the king if I was just gonna die anyway._

"Okay, okay," Ikkaku spoke in a patronizing tone to calm Yumi down. "I ain't gonna do nothin', I just want to get free. Can you cut these ropes for me with that knife you got there?" He nodded at the other's hand, now gripping a carving knife.

Yumichika shook his head. "You'll just rip out my intestines with your retractable claws."

Ikkaku sighed deeply.  _Jeez_. "I don't have any claws, alright? I ain't no monster, either, so just let me go and I'll be out of your hair."

"How can I know you're telling the truth?" Yumichika asked. He was afraid, but also strangely excited, curious, and looking for any excuse to avoid conflict.

"Because… um…" Ikkaku bit his lip in thought. "Would a monster be walkin' around with stolen crowns, a sword, and grappling hooks? Nah, he'd be walkin' around with human heads and probably has wings to fly into towers like this. He wouldn't need any of my stuff. And if I did have sharp claws, wouldn't I have cut the ropes and eaten your guts by now? I'm tellin' ya, I'm just some guy. My name's Ikkaku Madarame. You've probably heard of me, actually; I’m the best thief in town." He paused. "But I won't steal any a' your stuff, you can keep everything in that bag – just let me have my sword. I won't leave without it, but I won't hurt ya with it. In fact, you can just throw it to me when I get down, okay?"

Yumichika paused for a long while to consider his words. It all sounded perfectly reasonable – in fact, more reasonable than anything he'd expect from an outsider. This man may have been a bit dirty and disheveled, but his hard face was handsome, his eyes were true, and a sheen of nervous sweat covered his skin. His clothes were well-fitted, a pair of leather gloves adorning his hands, untorn by claws and free of bloodstains. _Father Mayu... lied to me?_

An idea bloomed in Yumichika's mind. He placed the knife down and pulled his hand away from it in a show of solidarity, stepping toward Ikkaku with false confidence. "No."

Ikkaku's face paled. "No? What? But… come on, what more do I have to do ta' prove I ain't dangerous?"

Yumichika poked Ikkaku's chest with the sheath and brought his face down to level. "Take me outside."

"Say huh now?"

"You're going to escort me to the floating lights as my bodyguard, and then, tomorrow, you'll get me safely back to the tower and take your sword."

"Or, here's a better idea: _you_ give it to me _now,_ so I don't have to tear this place apart."

Yumichika jabbed the sheath in further. "I know every inch of this tower like the back of my hand. You can search and search for the rest of your days, but I _promise_ , without my help, you'll  _never_   _find it_." That was a load of bull shit, but Ikkaku seemed to buy it easily enough.

This person was clearly desperate to see – what, the floating lights? It made no sense, but nothing about the long-haired freak really did. "What's so important about seein' those stupid lanterns?" Ikkaku asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.

"I knew they were lanterns," Yumi mused aloud. He then faced Ikkaku with renewed vigor. "Why do they float? What do they mean?"

"The king and queen do it for their son every year," Ikkaku explained. "Where the fuck have you been? Everybody knows that."

 _King? Queen? Prince?_ Just like in the storybooks! He had no idea there really were such people! Father Mayu wasn't much for discussions about government or the outside world in general, only to dissuade his son by describing what evil prowled about. Whoever this 'Ikkaku' was clearly knew more about the outside than his father wanted him to know.

It would be difficult, but he couldn't let the chance pass by. Even knowing the lights weren't really his, that they were just a celebration for some prince, didn't deter him. He wanted,  _needed_  to see the outside world at least once, and a lifelong dream was not so easily squashed. "You'll take me," he demanded, ignoring Ikkaku's earlier quip. "We both have something to gain here. I know it might sound crazy, but all my life I've wanted nothing more than to go out there and watch the lights from below. It's my one and only dream, and today's my birthday... In four days, my father's going to come home, and he won't let me leave no matter what. Ever! _Please_ , Ikkaku; I'll give you the sword, the things you stole, and anything else you want from this place, if you'll only take me outside and keep me safe for one night."

Ikkaku blinked. He wanted to protest, but something about the weirdo's story hit home. He, too, had a dream, and could certainly respect desperation when the only opportunity to reach it finally arose. His own dream involved that sword; and if he wanted it back, he had to give this kid what _he_ wanted first. "How'm I supposed to protect ya without a weapon?" he asked.

Yumichika went to work untying the rope silently, and once Ikkaku's hands were free, he tossed him the empty sheath. "You're the best thief in town, remember? That should do."

Ikkaku's wrists still stung as he scrambled to his feet. "Fine. I'll take ya to see the stupid lanterns, but when we get back here, you follow your side of the deal or we're gonna have a problem." He slid the scabbard through his belt. It was made from hard wood and could probably work for defense against common scoundrels, but he couldn't imagine facing a real sword with such pitiful means.

"Don't worry. I'm a man of my word." Yumichika held out his hand and they shook on it.

Ikkaku then watched in disturbed fascination as the other gathered up his several feet of hair and went to work looping it around the outer banister. "What's your name anyway?" he asked, approaching warily.

"Yumichika." He tugged the violet locks for good measure, then met Ikkaku's intrigued gaze. "Well, let's go. If I don't get to the lights before nighttime, you can kiss your precious sword goodbye."


	2. Bras de Fer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! It's been a while since I updated this, but the updates should be much more frequent & fast from now on. I was very busy at uni and now have much more free time. Can't wait to get further along~ (Things are still jumping around a little, but soon we'll be getting to the meat of the story. Enjoy!)
> 
> Quick note: I made some edits to the first chapter; really nothing major, but it might be a good idea to give it a scan before moving on. Thanks for reading! (☞ﾟ∀ﾟ)☞

“URK!” Renji’s neck bent at an odd angle in such close quarters, Tetsuzaemon’s face pressing closer into his armpit with every bump of the prison cart. “Ow, ow, cramp… are we almost there yet?”

A muffled growl of anger came from beneath his arm. “Do I look like a psychic? Just shut the fuck up and quit wastin’ our oxygen, or I’ll take a bite outta your tit!” Iba was sure he could, head angled the right way, but that would mean trapping his face somewhere even _worse_ as Renji had ended up tucked in far enough for his own crotch to rest at chest-level. His companion spared no sympathy.

“I feel so close to you right now,” Renji admitted. “Just the two of us.”

Angry screams were the only available release. Punching a man required more than four centimeters of elbow room. “That _bastard_ Ikkaku!” Tetsuzaemon seethed as he remembered what the guards had told them when they finally got caught prowling around the woods to find him. Ikkaku had gottan away scot free with all their stolen goods. “Soon as we break outta prison, _he’s a dead man_!”

* * *

Yumichika allowed his toe to sink into the babbling creek. He then lowered his whole foot in, a pink blush exploding onto his cheeks at the new sensation.

Since before he could remember, he had lived high above the ground, and could honestly say he’d never stood on anything completely solid before. His toes sank into the soil, bumping against rocks and tickled by the running water. He couldn’t contain a squeal of excitement, despite Ikkaku’s disapproving glare from afar. Breathing in deep, he stretched his arms upward and cried out, “Isn’t this amazing??”

Ikkaku could only sigh. “Yep.”

Yumichika gathered up his hair and leapt back onto the grass, giggling insanely. “What’s that over there?” he asked as they made their way down a nearby hill. Ikkaku led the way, whistling or shouting now and then to get the tower-troll’s attention when he wandered off too far. Yumichika pointed at a chipmunk darting along their path. How he’d never heard of something so simple baffled his world-weary companion. What exactly had he been _doing_ in that tower for so long?

As he watched the kid spin around in circles, Ikkaku’s curiosity nearly won over annoyance. _Nearly_. There would be plenty of time for questions later if he cared enough to ask.

Yumichika stood on tiptoes and looked inside a tree-knot, slapping the bark with his bare palms just to see how it felt, bending down to rub a velvety leaf, and then blew the white bits from a dandelion. All the while that trail of purple hair followed him, dragging through dirt and grass yet remaining smooth and immaculate. It was quite surreal to watch.

“Alright, alright, enough,” Ikkaku called out when he realized how much time they were wasting. “The lights ain’t gonna wait up for ya, so get a move on.”

This seemed to get Yumichika’s attention. He finally stopped skipping around and caught his breath, still high on the newly discovered world, wondering if the floating lights would be just as incredible as all this.

Ikkaku was waiting by the cliff face, holding both his hands out for Yumichika to climb onto his back.

Each grip had to be tested before he relied on it to support their weight. Unlike the climb down, Ikkaku had a hundred-something-pound _leech_ clinging to him, and the deep red blush on his face could not be blamed on strain alone, however hard he might deny. Yumichika had taken it upon himself to rest his cheek against Ikkaku’s neck, gazing out at the familiar scenery from a new vantage point, gripping tightly. “You’re pretty strong.”

“Shut up and hold on.” Ikkaku shook his head. He tried to keep his mind on the sword while Yumichika’s soft hands crossed against his chest. All this weirdness would be worth it, he told himself, in the end.

After a few moments’ rest at the top, Ikkaku helped Yumichika to his feet and led him through the narrow passageway. Fortunately there were no guards posted at the mouth of the cave, but the thief went ahead and threw his hood up just to be safe.

“What’s wrong?” Yumichika piped up. Ikkaku simply shushed him.

“I’m a wanted man, remember? Just don’t draw any attention to us while we’re out here.”

How exciting! In one story Yumichika had read over and over, a princess fell in love with a poor boy who had to steal his own food to get by. He was always being chased down by police, but the princess thought he was a good person deep down. She loved him so much she gave up all of her royal comforts and entitlements to be by his side. Yumichika sped up to walk beside Ikkaku, thinking maybe they could talk if they were quiet. “You’ve never been caught before, have you? Being the best thief in town and all.”

“Yeah, well, even cool guys like me hit bad luck sometimes.” Before he could think of an example, a brilliant thought crossed his mind. Yumichika hadn’t been deterred by the journey down _or_ the journey up, and didn’t seem quite as unnerved by the outside world as a sheltered brat like him should be. However, convincing him that this trip was too dangerous and taking him home early to collect the sword might turn this annoying day into the luckiest ever... And Ikkaku knew just the place…

He led Yumichika down a few twisting paths until the sound of racous laughter drifted through the air. “You hungry? There’s a great, um… _establishment_ nearby, and I could use some ale besides. What do you say?”

Yumichika clapped his hands together. “Yeah! I could use some ale, too.”

Ikkaku quirked an eyebrow. “That’s for sure.”

Yumichika struck him as a lightweight, and would certainly be intimidated by big crowds. Maybe - just maybe - he’d ask to be taken home if Ikkaku could convince him most people were like the ones who frequented their current destination.

Past a small grove and down a dirt path was a quaint hovel known as Urahara’s. Bar, restaurant, inn, and curio shop all in one, the place had served Ikkaku and his companions well when they needed to stay under the radar or stock up on items of a criminal nature. Now all he needed it to be was seedy and disgusting, which took no real effort in the end.

Yumichika’s face darkened before the sign came into view. From inside came a cacophany of music, shouts, fist-to-face contact, and heavy objects being thrown about, which prompted Ikkaku to grin cheerfully and bring his new travel buddy in for a side-hug. “Pretty great, huh? Just wait till you smell it from inside.”

Yumichika opened his mouth to protest, but when said smell finally hit his nostrils he could only clamp both hands over his mouth and nose, gaping at the scene before them. Some of these men had to be at least seven feet tall, even the ones slouched over tables where they seemed to be deep in concentration over games of chance. The stench in the air consisted mainly of feet, pits, various other sweaty regions, and lots and lots of alcohol. His face reddened when he heard Ikkaku ordering two pints on a tab, wondering why he’d claimed to be thirsty for ale earlier when he’d never actually touched the stuff. Rebelling against Father Mayu had been fun so far, but… after looking around this place, Yumichika began to reconsider.

“Ugh! Excuse me!” His shoulder jerked forward to make way for some gross behemoth. Most of these men seemed devoid of common courtesy! A sudden force pulled his head back and he stumbled, falling against a particularly terrifying gentleman with the physique of a grizzly bear. He completed the image by growling and baring a set of yellow teeth, big enough to bite through the table at which he currently sat with four equally horrendous people, stacks of tiles and cards strewn about. “Whadda’ you supposed to be?” he rumbled, eyes traveling up and down Yumichika’s form. The poor boy’s hair was trapped beneath a gigantic foot, but no amount of gesturing and stammering would make bear-man look down and remedy the situation.

One of the other men grinned mockingly and answered for him: “It’s some kinda’ forest sprite. Maybe it’ll grant you a wish.”

“Ehhhhhh.” Bear-man had lost interest. But his foot wouldn’t move an inch, even when Yumichika made a show of trying to yank his hair free. Elsewhere, bar patrons were stepping all over his beautiful locks and examining them curiously, rubbing them against their disgusting faces and sniffing at them with fascination. Yumichika stomped his foot. “No, no! Don’t you touch that, YOU BRUTES!” he shouted, but in such racket even the scream fell flat and meek. A tap on his shoulder brought him face-to-face with Ikkaku holding out their drinks.

His hood was off now, baring that shiny bald head in all its glory. “To the floating lights!” he proclaimed, lifting the ale up toward the ceiling before taking a mighty swig and wiping his lips with the back of his arm. Seeing that Yumichika wans’t enjoying himself, Ikkaku gave his best pitying look and asked, yelling to be heard over the others, “Aw, come on, aren’t ya thirsty? I bought that, so you gotta drink it.” He brought it up to Yumichika’s mouth and tipped, making him cough and sputter.

By now many eyes were on them. Yumichika blushed and tried to compose himself before taking another tentative sip. It went down rough, but the taste was withstandable; he maintained eye contact as he drank, downing half the pint while Ikkaku’s expression slowly turned from amused to semi-impressed. Confidence began to melt through the fear. “This is pretty good!” he shouted, pointing at the cup before drinking some more and nodding to himself. “I’ve had better, but it’s alright!”

Ikkaku laughed. He was right about one thing: the kid had no experience with alcohol.

People seemed curious about him already. Most were regulars, and even newcomers would have been taken aback by Yumichika’s appearance. The men at the table were staring and gaping like dumb fish, probably trying to determine whether he was a man or a woman; Ikkaku understood their predicament, but somehow the way their eyes ran all up and down Yumichika’s body as he drank was unnerving. The thief’s fingers began to dance across the empty sheath at his side, eyes narrowed and surveying the scene in silence.

“Ah, Madarame.”

Ikkaku whipped around, creepers forgotten. “Yo, Urahara! Fancy seein’ you out and about.” The bar owner usually stashed himself away to conduct business, keeping himself as anonymous as possible and leaving grunt work to the odd collection of employees. Even in this commotion he kept his voice at a flat range. His smiling eyes moved from Ikkaku to Yumichika, who had started to drink from the bald man’s cup.

Before Ikkaku could ask what he wanted, Urahara spoke again. “Jinta said there was something out here I’d want to see. Is that what he meant?” He nodded toward the other.

“How the fuck should I know?”

Urahara’s smile seemed to shrink for a moment as he observed the tower freak, then quickly returned to normal. “Come with me. Don’t worry, he’s in good hands.” Ikkaku let himself be led into the back office after shouting to Yumichika that he’d be right back. He didn’t turn to make sure the other heard him, seeing as he was focused on freeing his hair again.

The quiet in Urahara’s office made his ears ring. Tessai, a hulking man who never seemed to leave his boss’s side, took a seat by the door and resumed stringing some bows. Ikkaku nodded to him before lowering himself to the floor in front of Urahara’s short table.

“You don’t know who he is, do you?”

Strange question. Ikkaku gave a snort and crossed his arms. “Duh, he’s Tessai. Of course I know that.”

Urahara’s smile grew on only one side. “I meant the boy you’re traveling with.”

Ikkaku’s arms began to loosen. “Huh? I… What are you talkin’ about? He’s just some hermit.”

Tessai and Urahara exhanged a quick glance. “Where exactly did you bump into him?”

Something about this interrogation seemed weird. Ikkaku scoffed and shifted his weight, trying to figure out why Yumichika’s origin was so important. He’d always trusted Urahara while managing to keep him at an arm’s length, as any good criminal would. “Sorry, but I’m not sure I wanna reveal that information. Finders keepers.”

Now the other side of his smile widened too. Urahara looked like he’d just stumbled upon some great revelation. Fuckin’ weirdo. “Alright then, have it your way; I mean no ill. Just be careful out there, Ikkaku.”

The thief’s arms shot up in a confused shrug. Before he could ask for elaboration, that clamor outside turned from its usual dull roar to particularly rambunctious cheers and chants. Conversation over, Urahara gestured toward the door and let Ikkaku push his way out to see what the crowd found so interesting.

“ _CHUG! CHUG! CHUG! CHUG!"_

The glass hit the table hard enough to send a hairline crack up its side. Yumichika didn’t even notice. He sighed in satisfaction and wiped his mouth like he’d seen Ikkaku do earlier. That ale stuff wasn’t so bad after all! When characters in his stories drank too much of it, they tended to do stupid things or get hurt; but he had never felt better. A dark flush painted his cheeks, eyes bright, tongue poking out between his teeth as he positioned his arm for another round. “Who’s next?”

A resigned growl erupted from the crowd opposite him, and the man who pushed his way through received a few encouraging pats before sitting down. Yumichika was still borrowing Bear-man’s chair, its former occupant gripping the back with white knuckles and watching intently. “That was just a fluke!” said the new opponent. “No fuckin’ way can ya beat three guys in a row! ‘Sides, I’m the best there is!” He clapped his hand around Yumichika’s and they locked eyes.

“ _On the count a’ three… one… two… GO!_ ”

Ikkaku had to consciously wrench his mouth shut. What the absolute _fuck_ was he witnessing?

Veins started to pop out on the other guy’s head as he grunted in exertion, pushing and pushing with all his might against Yumichika’s hand. The tower brat was biting into his lower lip, but otherwise calm and composed. Ikkaku stared unblinkingly at his eyes while the match progressed, seeing them alight with a spark of excitement and blood lust. He’d seen that look enough times to know. It was impossible to keep his jaw from dropping once again, when the competitor’s hand slammed down.

Cheers and boos alike rained down from spectators. A few tossed coins onto the table while others exchanged them amongst themselves. Yumichika scooped up his share and turned the coins around in his fingers, watching them gleam like he’d never seen real money before. He even brought them up to his nose to smell.

“Fuck!” Another man took the seat opposite him and slammed down a pendant with a little silver dragon on it. Looked pretty cheap and shoddy, but Yumichika’s eyes sparkled at the sight. “It’s yours if ya beat me – and _when_ I win, ya hand over the coins!”

Yumichika didn’t even care that he could buy something better with the money in his hand. He pressed his elbow against the table and smirked confidently, nodding to the person who placed his next pint down. Ikkaku wanted to be annoyed at the failure of his plan, but he could only stare, captivated, at the pure unadulterated _stamina_ radiating from his new acquaintance. Somehow he’d managed to fit in with these guys after barely a minute on his own.

“AAAAARGH! DAMMIT!” The table shook under the defeated man’s angry slap, making Yumichika reach out to grab his drink before it could fall over. His eyes finally landed on Ikkaku as he was downing the beverage, other hand absently reaching out to grab his winnings.

A fond grin spread across his face. Nah, this was just too fucking weird… Ikkaku felt himself blush and nearly smacked himself to get his senses back. “Hey!” Yumichika waved. When he got no response, he simply shrugged and asked for any more takers.

Ikkaku shoved his way into the chair before anyone else could. He wasn’t sure he liked the idea of Yumichika becoming the new arm wrestling champ of Urahara’s Bar & Criminal Underground Haven. “What do you think yer doing?” he asked.

Yumichika shrugged. “Having fun.”

 _The sword…_ if this idiot didn’t see his precious lanterns, would he really withhold it from Ikkaku? That risk was hardly worth more unnecessary annoyance. “Did’ja forget about the floating lights already?”

The smaller man pursed his lips in thought. Somehow, the mention of his dream, that which he’s spent his whole life devoted to, made him a bit sad now. Of course he still wanted to see them; he’d regret it forever if he missed that opportunity after coming so far. Maybe he was just overwhelmed… all these new experiences… he wanted to see everything, feel everything, before it was time to go home and leave it all behind.

Ikkaku was right. But first… “Once more,” Yumichika said. He put his arm into position and gave Ikkaku a challenging grin. “I just want to play one more time.”  

“Fine,” the thief sighed. He fit his hand into Yumichika’s and waited for the countdown. Their eyes locked, gazes intense… he could almost feel the pulse beating in the other’s hand. He gave a light squeeze; all noise around them seemed to dim away. Yumichika was staring forward with fight in his eyes, moist lips slightly parted as he breathed heavily, cheeks pink from the alcohol. His hand was warm, incredibly so… from between the folds of his loose garment, Ikkaku could see his chest rising and falling, beaded with sweat.

“Um, guys… I said go.”

Ikkaku blinked a few times. _Fuck_ , he hadn’t even noticed! And apparently Yumichika didn’t either, but once he did, he quickly pushed Ikkaku’s hand down against the table and threw his arms up in victory.

“What? Hey, I wasn’t ready! You fuckin’ cheater...” Ikkaku’s protest cut short when he found the other leaning toward him, pendant in hands, slipping it over his head before he could react. He glanced down and then up to Yumichika, who was smiling so brightly you’d swear he wasn’t surrounded in killers who never bathed. “Tch. Idiot... you won, not me...”

But Ikkaku reached up to finger the little silver dragon charm. It was curved, smooth, and cool against his heated fingertips.

* * *

“Smell somethin’?”

The guard who had spoken up tightened his grip on the horse’s reins. She had picked up a trail... _finally_.

One of the guards in back whistled and swung his arm forward, drawing a few more men to his side. “Follow her wherever she goes,” he commanded. “But make sure she stays close until the king gets here. Understood?” Receiving affirmation, he turned and rode for the castle. Zaraki was busy questioning a couple prisoners, apparently, but the guard had orders to contact him if Yachiru seemed to have found the scent they were looking for. Her nose pressed against a tree and she started to trot around excitedly, dragging the poor guard in charge of her reins as if he was nothing.

“Ey, get a hold of that beast, would you?”

He pulled at the ropes and cried out when she yanked him roughly to the side. “I’m trying!”

A couple other guards jumped from their mounts and tried to assist, but the king’s horse had always been a bit too wild for anyone but him to control. She also tended to get lost easily if there was no scent to follow – even then deviating from time to time with various distractions – so the chorus of light jeers quickly turned to panicked shouts when she snagged her bridle on a tree branch, unfastening the snaps too quickly for anyone to catch her before she bounded into the woods.

“Stop her!” Several other riders quickly pursued, but she was too fast. They could only branch off and hope to catch up with the animal before she got herself lost out there.

Several minutes passed and a few of the guards found themselves regrouped in a small clearing. “The king will have our heads for this!” one of them shouted. “DAMMIT... where is that stupid horse?”

Another guard shook his head. “Forget it. She’ll find the thief and bring him straight to her master; he probably just wanted to see the guy’s face when he caught up to him out in the wild. So don’t get yer panties tied in a knot.” He spat onto the ground and turned the reins of his horse toward the sound of merriment coming from nearby. “Whatever happens, I’d rather deal with it drunk. Let’s go.”

The others agreed, and they headed for Urahara’s at a gallop.


End file.
